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stake faggots and the caldron of boiling oil are for him.
Caliban!
THE MOB: Lynch him! Roast him! He’s as bad as
Parnell was. Mr Fox!
(Mother Grogan throws her boot at Bloom. Several
shopkeepers from upper and lower Dorset street throw objects of
little or no commercial value, hambones, condensed milk tins,
unsaleable cabbage, stale bread, sheep’s tails, odd pieces of fat.)
BLOOM: (Excitedly) This is midsummer madness, some
ghastly joke again. By heaven, I am guiltless as the
unsunned snow! It was my brother Henry. He is my
double. He lives in number 2 Dolphin’s Barn. Slander, the
viper, has wrongfully accused me. Fellowcountrymen,
sgenl inn ban bata coisde gan capall. I
call on my old friend,
Dr Malachi Mulligan, sex specialist, to give medical
testimony on my behalf.
DR MULLIGAN: (In motor jerkin, green motorgoggles on
his brow) Dr Bloom is bisexually abnormal. He has recently
escaped from Dr Eustace’s private asylum for demented
gentlemen. Born out of bedlock hereditary epilepsy is
present, the consequence of unbridled lust. Traces of
elephantiasis have been discovered among his ascendants.
There are marked symptoms of chronic exhibitionism.
Ambidexterity is also latent. He is prematurely bald from
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selfabuse, perversely
idealistic in consequence, a reformed
rake, and has metal teeth. In consequence of a family
complex he has temporarily lost his memory and I believe
him to be more sinned against than sinning. I have made a
pervaginal examination and, after application of the acid
test to 5427 anal, axillary, pectoral and pubic hairs, I
declare him to be virgo intacta.
(Bloom holds his high grade hat over his genital organs.)
DR MADDEN: Hypsospadia is also marked. In the
interest of coming generations I suggest that the parts
affected should be preserved in spirits of wine in the
national teratological museum.
DR CROTTHERS: I have examined the patient’s
urine. It is albuminoid. Salivation is insufficient, the
patellar reflex intermittent.
DR PUNCH COSTELLO: The fetor judaicus is most
perceptible.
DR DIXON: (Reads a bill of health) Professor Bloom is
a finished example of the new womanly man. His moral
nature is simple and lovable. Many have found him a dear
man, a dear person. He is a rather quaint fellow on the
whole, coy though not feebleminded in the medical sense.
He has written a really beautiful letter, a poem in itself, to
the court missionary of the Reformed Priests’ Protection
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Society which clears up everything. He is practically a
total abstainer and I can affirm that he sleeps on a straw
litter and eats the most Spartan food, cold dried grocer’s
peas. He wears a hairshirt of pure Irish manufacture winter
and summer and scourges himself every Saturday. He was,
I understand, at one time a firstclass misdemeanant in
Glencree reformatory. Another report states that he was a
very posthumous child. I appeal for clemency in the name
of the most sacred word our vocal organs have ever been
called upon to speak. He is about to have a baby.
(General commotion and compassion. Women faint. A
wealthy American makes a street collection for Bloom. Gold and
silver coins, blank cheques, banknotes, jewels, treasury bonds,
maturing bills of exchange, I. O. U’s, wedding rings,
watchchains, lockets, necklaces and bracelets are rapidly collected.)
BLOOM: O, I so want to be a mother.
MRS THORNTON: (In nursetender’s gown) Embrace
me tight, dear. You’ll be soon over it. Tight, dear.
(Bloom embraces her tightly and bears eight male yellow and
white children. They appear on a redcarpeted staircase adorned
with expensive plants. All the octuplets are handsome, with
valuable metallic faces, wellmade, respectably dressed and
wellconducted, speaking five modern languages fluently and
interested in various arts and sciences. Each has his name printed
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in legible letters on his shirtfront: Nasodoro, Goldfinger,
Chrysostomos, Maindoree, Silversmile, Silberselber, Vifargent,
Panargyros. They are immediately appointed to positions of high
public trust in several different countries as managing directors of
banks, traffic managers of railways, chairmen of limited liability
companies, vicechairmen of hotel syndicates.)
A VOICE: Bloom, are you the Messiah ben Joseph or
ben David?
BLOOM: (Darkly) You have said it.
BROTHER BUZZ: Then perform a miracle like
Father Charles.
BANTAM LYONS: Prophesy who will win the Saint
Leger.
(Bloom walks on a net, covers his left eye with his left ear,
passes through several walls, climbs Nelson’s Pillar, hangs from
the top ledge by his eyelids, eats twelve dozen oysters (shells
included), heals several sufferers from king’s evil, contracts his face
so as to resemble many historical personages, Lord Beaconsfield,
Lord Byron, Wat Tyler, Moses of Egypt, Moses Maimonides,
Moses Mendelssohn, Henry Irving, Rip van Winkle, Kossuth,
Jean Jacques Rousseau, Baron Leopold Rothschild, Robinson
Crusoe, Sherlock Holmes, Pasteur, turns each foot simultaneously
in different directions, bids the tide turn back, eclipses the sun by
extending his little finger.)